What would the Fellowship do for a Klondike Bar?
by Paper Crane
Summary: Oh, c'mon. You know you want to see what this is all about! See how far members of the Fellowship will go for a Klondike Bar *warning* Writen on a vanilla coke high. Gimli's up!
1. At the Copa! Aragorn

A/N: Yes, another venture into LOTR humour! Hope you like this. If you'd like me to continue, please review and let me know!  
  
Enjoy!  
  
Disclaimer: Me? Own Lord of the Rings? In your dreams! Well, actually, in mine...  
  
What would Aragorn do for a Klondike Bar?  
  
Aragorn stands in a clearing in Rivendell practicing some sword moves. He is hoping that Arwen will come along. He and the Fellowship will be leaving tomorrow, and he would like to say goodbye. But in the midst of one particularly complex move, a strangely dressed man strolls out of the forest and up to the ranger.  
  
"Aragorn son of Arathorn, I presume?" asks the man. Aragorn nods, looking slightly bewildered. The strange man smiles and continues. "Great. I've been chosen to ask you a question on behalf of the public. This question is: Would you sing 'Copa Cabana' in front of Elrond for a Klondike Bar?"  
  
Aragorn blinks once…twice…. The man waits expectantly. Finally, Aragorn says, "Will I sing 'Copa Cabana' in front of Elrond for a… what?"  
  
"A Klondike Bar!" the man repeats, holding up the foil wrapped ice cream treat. Aragorn stares blankly. "Perhaps this will clarify a bit more…" The man snaps his fingers, and an unbelievably obnoxious jingle fills the air:  
  
  
  
Oh that chocolaty coated  
  
Ice cream loaded  
  
Big and thick  
  
No room for a stick  
  
What would you do-oo-oo….  
  
For a Klondike Bar!  
  
Aragorn winces at the horrible tune, then considers the decision. The sweet looks very tasty, and he is leaving tomorrow…so…  
  
"Why not?" he finally concludes.  
  
"Great!" the strange man answers, "and here comes Elrond, with Arwen with him!" The fact that Arwen is present seems to weaken the ranger's resolve, but he squares his shoulders, determined to go through with the task.  
  
"Hello, Elrond," he greets the lord of Rivendell, "I have a ballad to sing for you…"  
  
Four minutes later, Aragorn is finished with his song. Arwen looks as though she has swallowed a frog, and Elrond's eyebrows are on a rampage.  
  
"That's it!" he mutters, "Arwen is going to be on the next ship for Valinor if I have to drag her there myself!"  
  
Aragorn doesn't hear Elrond's decision. He's too busy trying to remove the bits of chocolate that have adhered themselves to his beard.  
  
A/N: I need some more ideas for what to do for other characters. If you have any ideas about what I could do, please include them in your reviews! Thanks. 


	2. We love Monty Python! Boromir

A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed! I hope you enjoy this chapter as well. If you have any ideas for further chapters, please let me know!  
  
Enjoy!  
  
What would Boromir do for a Klondike Bar?  
  
Boromir rides along a tree lined path towards Rivendell. He is almost there and is relieved about it: finally his questions will be answered! But before he can pass through into the elven realm, a strangely dressed man steps in front of him. Checking the horse, Boromir glares down at the stranger.  
  
"Hello," says the man, smiling pleasantly. "Boromir of Gondor, I presume?" Boromir nods curtly. Who is this man? "Great!" the man continues, "Boromir, I am here to ask you a question on behalf of the general public. This question is: will you ride Monty Python style into Rivendell for a Klondike Bar?"  
  
Boromir stares wordlessly at the man. How dare he? How dare he come and speak this gibberish to a lord of Gondor in this manner?  
  
"Please excuse me," he finally stutters, "but I am on an important mission and I have no time for such frivolous nonsense. Good day!" He tries to ride around the man, but he moves to block his way.  
  
"C'mon," he coaxes, waving the treat in front of Boromir. "You know you want it!" An annoying jingle starts to play.  
  
Oh that chocolaty coated  
  
Ice cream loaded  
  
Big and thick  
  
No room for a stick  
  
What would you do-oo-oo…  
  
For a Klondike Bar?  
  
Boromir looks about wildly. "Where did that music come from?" he gasps. The man shrugs and continues to wave the treat. Boromir stares at it. Chocolate…. He was on a diet and hadn't had chocolate for so long…  
  
"What do you mean by 'Monty Python' style?" he asks, trying to pry his mind off the chocolate.  
  
"Well," the man says, taking out two coconut halves, "you get one of your servants to clap these two things together behind you while you ride a pretend horse, like so:" the man demonstrates by riding an invisible horse around Boromir.  
  
The Gondorian man's mouth drops. "But-but I am a lord of Gondor, son of the steward himself! I can't lower myself to a stunt like that!"  
  
The man shrugs. "No coconut, no bar."  
  
Boromir sighs. Chocolate….  
  
Several elves of Rivendell stand near the entrance of the place. They had been asked to greet visitors, and so far they have welcomed two of their fellow elves, Legolas and Cirdan, and a group of dwarves they didn't really care to remember the names of. There has been word that a man from Gondor will be coming, and soon the sound of hooves can be heard coming from a distance. But as the Gondorian enters the city, the delightful sound of elvish laughter replaces the sound of the horse when the elves see what is coming: a full grown man pretending to ride a horse quite like a child might, with his servant running in back banging two pieces of a strange fruit together.  
  
Meanwhile in Gondor, Denethor sits back from watching his son eat chocolate on the Palantir and calls for a glass of wine.  
  
"That boy is going to be the death of me…."  
  
A/N: Yaaay! Monty Python! 


	3. My Precious! Legolas

A/N: Thanks for everyone who reviewed, and special thanks to Whitecoyote and her brother for coming up with this idea.  
  
Enjoy!  
  
What would Legolas do for a Klondike Bar?  
  
Legolas walks through Lothlorien, humming softly to himself. The fellowship is staying there for a while, thankful to get some rest, and a chance to grieve over the loss of Gandalf. Legolas hasn't been in contact with other elves for a while, and is enjoying the chance to explore the elvin woods.  
  
As he gazes up at one of the bigger mallorn trees, though, he is shocked out of his reverie by a man wearing a strange suit hopping over roots towards him.  
  
"Hello!" the man says cheerfully, grinning at the elvin prince. Legolas stares back at him, slightly confused.  
  
"Excuse me," he asks politely, "but, who are you?"  
  
The man shrugs. "Doesn't matter," he says. "What matters is what I've come to ask you. See, some members of the public have been wondering something about you. They would like to know if you would act like Gollum in front of Galadriel for a Klondike bar."  
  
Legolas looks at the man strangely, wondering if he should get out his bow. This man was obviously mad… "You want me to do what… for a….what?"  
  
"The public would like to see you act like Gollum for a Klondike bar. It's quite simple really, just crawl on your knees and mumble a bit."  
  
Legolas wrinkles his royal brow in thought, then finally asks: "What is a Klondike bar anyway."  
  
The man grins. "Funny you should ask that…"  
  
A hideous jingle fills the air:  
  
For that chocolaty coated  
  
Ice cream loaded  
  
Big and thick  
  
No room for a stick  
  
What would you do-oo-oo…  
  
For a Klondike bar?  
  
"How…." Legolas gasps, looking around for the source of the music.  
  
"Dunno," the man shrugs. "They're quite good," he adds, taking a bite of an ice cream treat. "Really, I'd do it if I were you."  
  
"But, acting like Gollum… in front of Galadriel?"  
  
The man lowers his voice conspiratorially. "Actually, I hear that Galadriel does a Bill Clinton impression at parties when she drinks too much wine, so a Gollum impression actually isn't that bad."  
  
Legolas nods, having heard about those impressions. That chocolate and ice cream looked really good, plus Galadriel was most likely going to cross the ocean soon anyway, so he wouldn't have to see her again, at least for a while… "Okay. I'll do it."  
  
The man beams. "Great! And look, here she comes now."  
  
Legolas swallows, the sight of the fair elvin queen quite taking away his confidence. But the thought of the ice cream encouraged him, so he walked up to the lady, then dropped on all fours and began mumbling.  
  
"Precioussssss, my preciousssss, we wants it, we do. Yesssssssss, our preciousssssss…."  
  
The lady of Lothlorien looked on worriedly as the elf muttered at her feet. "Are you quite all right," she asked, concerned.  
  
"Preciousssssssssss!" Legolas said in response.  
  
Galadriel hurried off into the woods past him. "I might want to warn Aragorn about this," she said to herself. "Better not let Legolas get too close to that ring."  
  
Legolas didn't hear this last comment. He was too busy trying to figure out a way to eat the ice cream without getting it in his hair. 


	4. Boogie down! Gandalf

A/N: As always, thanks to everyone who has reviewed, and special thanks to Gablock the Hated for the idea to this chapter.  
  
Enjoy!  
  
What would Gandalf the Grey do for a Klondike Bar?  
  
Gandalf the Grey sits prisoner on top of the Tower of Orthanc being pelted by rain. He's soaked through and through, not to mention cold and hungry. All in all he is not a happy camper. Bored, he looks over the edge of the tower to watch Saruman's orcs chopping down trees to fuel his gigantic furnaces. Watching this was more depressing then just sitting in the rain, so he looked back to the tower, and started. A man was standing about five feet away from him, beaming, with an umbrella over his head.  
  
"Hello, there!" he exclaims, "Are you Gandalf the Grey?"  
  
Gandalf nods warily, wondering what Saruman was up to this time.  
  
"Wonderful," says the man. "I'm here to ask you a question on behalf of the public. Is that okay?"  
  
Gandalf nods again, too cold to really argue all that much.  
  
"The question is: will you dance a jig in front of Saruman for a Klondike Bar?"  
  
Gandalf stands up slowly, shaking the water out of his cloak. "You want me to do a jig in front of Saruman for a Klondike Bar?"   
  
The man nods, smiling hopefully. "They're really good!" he adds, taking a bite out of one that he was holding. "And since you look so wet, I'll add this umbrella in too. Listen to this while you think."  
  
A jingle filled the air:  
  
  
  
For that chocolaty coated  
  
Ice cream loaded  
  
Big and thick  
  
No room for a stick  
  
What would you do-oo-oo…  
  
For a Klondike Bar?  
  
  
  
"Elbereth, that's annoying," Gandalf curses quietly, then considered his options. He could sit up here being bored for a while, or he could dance in front of Saruman. This sounds a bit better to Gandalf. The ice cream does look very good: he hasn'tt had much of anything to eat in a week, and the umbrella makes the offer even better.  
  
"Alright," he agrees   
  
The man beams. "Great. And here comes Saruman!" Indeed, the wizard robed in white is making his way up onto the tower. As soon as the Istari has reached the landing, the man snaps his fingers and another man wearing a kilt and carrying a bagpipe appears on the tower and begins to play.  
  
Saruman's eyebrows raise as he watches Gandalf begins to dance energetically around him. The tune that the bagpipe is playing is quite catchy, and the white wizard soon finds himself swaying to the beat. Moments later, both wizards are boogieing around the top of Orthanc, stomping to the piper's songs. The orcs below notice the ruckus, and look up to see their master and his prisoner dancing wildly together. Most decide that their master has finally cracked, but a few join in the dancing below.  
  
After a few more minutes, Gandalf stops, noticing something off the edge of the tower. He grabs the umbrella and the Klondike Bar from the man and jumps off the tower onto the back of a giant eagle that has soared near the tower.  
  
"What was going on up there?" Gwaihir asks, looking back at his friend.  
  
Gandalf pretends to not hear him and takes another bite of his ice cream. 


	5. Shave and a Haircut Gimli

A/N: Thanks to all the nice people who reviewed, and special thanks to Angel 110 for giving me the idea for this chapter.  
  
Enjoy!  
  
What would Gimli do for a Klondike Bar?  
  
Gimli mills about uneasily in his room in Rivendel. It's the night before the Council of Elrond, and the outdoorsy nature of Imladris is making him uncomfortable.  
  
"Too many trees…" he mumbles to himself, stepping out onto his balcony. "I don't understand how those elves can stand it!"  
  
As he stood talking to himself, and strangely dressed man steps out of the shadows behind him and joins the dwarf on the balcony.  
  
"Hello!" he says cheerfully, "You're Gimli son of Gloin, correct?"   
  
"Yes…." the dwarf answers slowly, raising an eyebrow delicately, wondering how this strange man had gotten into his quarters. "And you would be…"  
  
The man pretends not to hear the question. "I've been sent by the public with a question for you. Gimli, would you shave off your beard for a Klondike Bar?"  
  
Gimli's hand reaches unconsciously for his chin. "Shave off my beard? Are you daft?"  
  
The man shrugs. "No, just curious. Would you do it?"  
  
The dwarf shakes his head vigorously. "It would be an insult to my dwarven pride!" he exclaims vehemently.  
  
"Well, it's you loss," the man sighs, leaning down to wave a foil covered ice cream bar in front of his nose. "They're quite delectable." He snaps his fingers and an annoyingly annoying jingle fills the air:  
  
"For that chocolaty coated  
  
Ice cream loaded  
  
Big and thick  
  
No room for a stick  
  
What would you do-oo-oo…  
  
For a Klondike Bar?"  
  
Gimli looks around for the source of the music, but finding nothing, he stares at the treat sideways, trying not to show his interest. He is quite a big chocolate fan, actually, but no one else really knows it. The ice cream looks delicious, but is it worth it…  
  
"Here, try a piece," the man suggests, handing the dwarf a bit of chocolate. His eyes light up as he tastes it. The man grins. "I've got a razor right here," he says, handing over the implement. .   
  
"Alright…" Gimli says slowly, keeping his eyes on the chocolate. It takes him quite a while to detach the mass of matted hair that grew on his chin off, but it was all off in the end, and the dwarf was left standing sadly in a large pile of hair. He seems rather diminished without the growth on his face, but you can see that he actually has some nice features under all of it.   
  
"Just think: the worst that can happen is that you'll be mistaken for a hobbit!" the man cajoles. Gimli blanches, the part where his beard used to be turning purple. The man quickly pulls him outside, handing him the ice cream snack.  
  
A small group of dwarves huddle together on a small platform close to the ground, trying to block out all the elvin-ness of Imladris. They didn't want to be here, but they really had no choice. The last time they had refused one of Elrond's invitations to a get together, the elvin lord had used Vilya to make all their beards fall out. And speaking of no beards…  
  
"Aule, what did that boy do!?" cried Gloin as he saw his son, quite beardless, munching happily on an ice cream bar. Gimli starts and looks up, caught.   
  
"Umm, would you like a piece?" he offers nervously, holding out a small piece of chocolate. His father snorts and turns away, embarrassed for his son. Gimli shrugs and meanders off into the woods of Rivendel, somehow feeling a bit more happy in the trees then he had been earlier. 


End file.
